


Burning for You

by themcgeek



Series: October 2014 Daily Writing Challenge [6]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Attempt at Humor, Bunker Fluff, Castiel in the Bunker, Couch Cuddles, Cuddling & Snuggling, Cuddly Dean, Domestic, Domestic Bliss, Domestic Castiel, Domestic Castiel/Dean Winchester, Domestic Dean Winchester, Domestic Fluff, Fallen Castiel, Fluffy Ending, Human Castiel, M/M, Men of Letters Bunker, Movie Night, Popcorn, Romantic Fluff, Scary Movies, Sleepy Castiel, Sleepy Cuddles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-09
Updated: 2014-10-09
Packaged: 2018-02-20 13:35:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2430731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/themcgeek/pseuds/themcgeek
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Day 6: Horror Movies</p>
<p>Dean falls off the couch with a muffled curse as the shrieking of the smoke alarm pierces the relative quiet of the bunker. He’s immediately on high alert, hand going to the waistband of his jeans to grip his pearl handled pistol. It’s only when he hears Castiel’s exasperated rasp calling, “I’ve got this, it’s fine,” from the kitchen that he relaxes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Burning for You

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the October Daily Writing Challenge on Tumblr.   
> Minor Spoilers for the film "Cabin in the Woods," just so you know.

Dean falls off the couch with a muffled curse as the shrieking of the smoke alarm pierces the relative quiet of the bunker. He’s immediately on high alert, hand going to the waistband of his jeans to grip his pearl handled pistol. It’s only when he hears Castiel’s exasperated rasp calling, “I’ve got this, it’s fine,” from the kitchen that he relaxes.

“Everything okay in there, buddy?” Judging by the acrid smell permeating the air, Dean is guessing that it’s not, in fact, okay.

“Yes, Dean. I’m perfectly capable of following instructions on microwave popcorn.” He can literally _hear_ the frown in the fallen angel’s voice.

There’s a flapping noise, like a towel being waved through the air, and then the smoke alarm finally, blessedly, falls silent. “You pressed the ‘popcorn’ button on the microwave, didn’t you?”

“Tell me, what is the purpose of _having_ a popcorn button if it doesn’t _work._ ”

“Rookie mistake, don’t worry about it. You want some help?” He’s already standing, so Dean begins to cautiously make his way toward the kitchen, where he can hear Cas banging around in the cupboards and tearing open another cellophane packet. There’s no answer, and when he pokes his head through the door, Cas is alternating between scowling at the blackened edges of the popcorn bag and the microwave itself. “Here,” Dean says gently, taking the unpopped package from Castiel’s clenched hand. He places it in the microwave, and presses the ‘2’ button three times.

“Dean, the package clearly indicates that it should cook for two minutes, or select the microwave’s ‘popcorn’ setting, not two minutes and twenty-two seconds.”

“Eh, I’m too lazy to move my finger. Besides, you don’t pop popcorn by time, you pop it by sound. Pay attention.” They proceed to stand there in relative silence, watching the expanding bag slowly rotate. When the percussive pops of the snack slow to a few seconds between, Dean presses the button to open the door.

“Dean, it’s not finished.”

“Trust me, Cas. Doesn’t this smell better, anyway?” Dean shakes the bag and tosses a smile over his shoulder to Cas, who’s been lurking the whole time.

“It’s still popping.”

“Yep.”

“I’ll grab a bowl.” Cas returns with a giant green plastic monstrosity, and offers it to Dean.

“Where did you get this thing? It’s huge.”

“Target. I liked the color. It reminded me of…something.” Dean raises his eyebrows, and bumps Cas’s hip with his own. Cas narrows his eyes. “It is not of import.”

“Mmhmm. So, what inspired this unsupervised culinary attempt?” Steam billows out of the bag and into Dean’s face, causing him to lean back and turn his face away. He shivers as his nose brushes across the stubble on Cas’s cheek. When did he get so close?

Blue eyes remain transfixed on Dean’s hands as he shakes the popped corn into the bowl. “According to television, Halloween is a month long celebration. I was under the impression that it was October 31, Samhain, that was the holiday. Apparently I was mistaken?”

“Nah. Well, I mean, kind of. Halloween is weird, man. People love that shit, so a lot of ‘em start celebrating as soon as the calendar changes. Spooky decorations and shit.” Dean hands the bowl over to Cas and leans back against the counter, crossing his arms over his chest. He pretends not to notice the once over he receives, or the goosebumps that erupt in the wake of Cas’s gaze.

“I see. In any case, it seems that the proper tradition involves watching violent movies that are based on incorrect assumptions of what people generally deem ‘supernatural’ phenomena. Would you care to join?”

“Cas, are you asking me to watch a slasher flick with you?”

“It appears that way.”

“Cool. Lead the way.”

As Dean follows Cas back to the bunker’s TV room, he’s definitely not watching the way his friend’s ass moves beneath his stolen jeans. Definitely.

\---

“So, got anything in mind?”

“Not especially. Perhaps I should cater to your expertise. Any suggestions?”

Dean leans back against the arm of the couch and gazes at the ceiling. “Nothing that’s so-called supernatural. I deal with that shit enough. Which pretty much leaves us with serial killers. If I’m being honest, they freak me out more than the ‘spooky’ stuff. People are fucking scary, Cas.”

“In all my millennia of watching humanity, I can verify that statement.” Cas reclines at the other end of the couch, picking at the label of the beer Dean grabbed for him. Apparently, it was nearly blasphemous to eat popcorn without beer to wash it down. He figured he would take Dean’s word for it.

An inelegant snort forces its way out of Dean’s nose. “That’s a fancy way of tellin’ me I’m right if I’ve ever heard one.” He slaps a hand against his knee. “Alright. Serial killer. Halloween.” After some fumbling with the remote, Dean pulls up Netflix. “Hmmm… oh, man. Okay, I know I said no supernatural shit, but we hafta watch this one.” He pauses with the cursor over a movie called _Cabin in the Woods_. “Joss Whedon, man. He’s, like, a pop-culture _god_.”

“As I have nothing for comparison, I’ll have to take your word for it.” Cas settles further into the couch cushions and takes a pull of his beer, raising an eyebrow at Dean.

“Alright, then, we’re watching it. I thought Metatron dosed you with pop culture know-how? Whatever. Doesn’t matter. You just gotta promise me one thing.”

“Anything.”

Dean tried to ignore the lurch in his stomach. “No pointing out how dumb the characters are. Or how wrong they got some of the beasties. Or trying to use, like… _logic_. It’s a dumb movie. That’s the point. I don’t want a repeat of when we tried to watch _Van Helsing_.”

“Duly noted.” Cas remains largely silent as the movie progresses, limiting his reactions to exaggerated exhales. Him and Dean both pretend not to notice how they’re gravitating closer to each other.

Of course, this ignorance can only last for so long. By the time the remaining protagonists have entered the lab, Cas is fully reclined against Dean’s side, with the hunter’s hand carding gently through his increasingly shaggy hair.

Unseen by the pair on the couch, Sam enters the living room, takes in the scene before him, and pivots on his heel and exits, leaving Castiel and Dean none the wiser to his presence.

The movie ends, and they sit in semi-stunned silence at the disheartening finale. Perturbed, Cas mumbles, “Well, at least they got the mermaids right.”

“Yeah, no kid—wait, _really?_ ” Dean stares down at the angel pillowed against his chest. Guileless blue eyes blink sleepily up at him.

“Mmm,” Cas mumbles, burrowing his face into Dean’s shoulder. His breath is hot through Dean’s shirt and across his skin. Hopefully Cas doesn’t notice the effect his closeness is having on the hunter. Nervously, but not uncomfortably, Dean shifts his hips away from his companion. “Stop. Moving.” That gravel-rough voice shudders through Dean’s bones, and he grinds his teeth against the onslaught of sensation.

“Cas, buddy,” he starts weakly.

“Dean, I do not care about your erection. I am comfortable, and wish to sleep. I’ll take care of it later.”

Dean can’t really argue with that logic, so with a smile on his face, he tightens his arms around the angel and follows him into unconsciousness.

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! <3


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